


Stress

by elation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stanford Era, some Cas tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elation/pseuds/elation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the semester at Stanford University and for sophomore Castiel Novak, finals week has been more than a little overwhelming. Good thing his boyfriend, Sam, has him covered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress

The front door of their apartment slams so hard Sam can practically see their walls reverberate from the assault. The noise causes him to launch his book straight out of his lap and he makes grabby hands at it as he quickly tries to recover, his stance tense and alert on his place on the couch. _What the hell?_ Then – 

“…Sam?” His boyfriend, Castiel, sounding absolutely wrecked in addition to his stutters and gasps, tell signs of a dam that was within seconds of completely bursting past it’s well kept and maintained barriers. _Oh no._

As if on autopilot, the absurdly tall man is tripping over cushions and his own feet to rush over to their entryway, whiplash be damned. A thousand things are rushing through his mind and he can’t even imagine what has happened. _Is he hurt? Did he finally fall out of that stupid tree that Sam had berated him constantly and consistently about climbing up in on pretty days that he enjoyed studying in? How did he even make it up the steps to the second floor of their complex? Why didn’t he just call 911 like any normal human would? Stupid, stupid, stupid boy. His fear of hospitals are going to be the death of-_

But when he finally reaches him, there isn’t a scratch to be found. No, the pain is within the soul, he realizes, as he watches tears stream steadily down his tanned face. It’s like a punch to the gut and _why is the love of his life so unhappy? Doesn’t he know that sadness doesn’t suit him?_ Without a single word between them, Castiel launches himself in Sam’s direction, burying his head into his boyfriend’s neck. The silent sniffling and gasps turn into full on sobs, the worst sound Sam thinks he’s every heard in his life. The questioning in his voice is fruitless, he knows, but it doesn’t help the quiet “Cas?” that comes from his lips. He gets more painful noises, but otherwise nothing. Silence.

His long, lanky arms come to embrace his companion, full and secure. He closes his eyes and puts everything he’s got into this, because whatever it is, Castiel needs it. Whatever it is, they’ll work through it. Right now, he simply rubs small, soothing circles into the man’s lower back, shushing and whispering what consolation he can give into his ear. 

They stand there for a long time; Sam refusing to relinquish his hold and Castiel trying his best, to no avail, at calming down. Soon enough, convulsions turn to gasps that turn to sputtering that turn to deep, deep breaths as he tries to reclaim peace. It’s completely quiet between them, aside for their mingling of breaths.

A light above their heads flickers rapidly, close to going out. Sam adds it to his mental list of things that need fixing. It’s earns itself a luxurious spot right next to literally every single thing in their terrible excuse of a home. There’s only so many times something can be fixed before it’s just beyond trying. Take the hot water knob to their shower, for instance. Sam still hadn’t broken it to Castiel that neither of them will be taking warm showers tonight. _Crap._

He’s going to fix it, though. He will. Somehow. Maybe he can draw a bath for him after they handle all of….whatever this is, gather hot water from their kitchen sink. After finishing his Calculus final today, he needs something special. God, Sam is a terrible boyfriend. Not only can he not fix a simply shower nob, let alone keep Castiel happy, if the tears soaking his shirt at the moment are any proof.

 _Damn it_ , he couldn't wait to graduate, couldn't wait to finally, _finally_ be a lawyer. Couldn't wait to give Castiel the life he deserves. A small repayment for the soft blue eyes he wakes up to every single day and the beautiful heart that was given to him with the uttermost trust , no demands, no expectations; just their love to keep them warm when their heater fails to. He unconsciously holds on tighter. That seems to be the complete opposite of what the other man wants though, because the body in Sam's arms squirms to be freed.

Backing away from the safety of his boyfriend's arms, Castiel viciously pushes at the remaining tears, apparently read to explain. Sam prepares himself for the worst, because _what is this bad?_ The shorter man opens his mouth only to close it, and visibly crumples in on himself in what looks like another oncoming crying fit. Sam is having none of it. 

He reaches both hands out to cradle Castiel’s face in his hands, right pinky resting right over his pulse point, jackhammering like crazy. “No no no, hey. Hey. Look at me. Please don’t cry. I don’t think I can take it if you start crying again. You gotta’ tell me what’s wrong or I can’t help. Let me help. Please?” Sam puts as much earnest as he can into his pleas, attempts to catch the man's eyes again. Castiel let's him. Progress. One step at a time, he guesses.

This time, when Castiel opens his mouth, actual words come out, hoarse and strained from the waterworks. “Sam…Sam I…I failed my…I failed my Calculus final.” Those pesky tears make their reappearance and to hide them, Castiel burrows himself back into Sam’s arms, ashamed.

Sam can’t help himself. He laughs. Not just simple giggles, oh no. Full on deep throated, chest-heaving chuckles. He tries to regain composure when he feels Castiel freeze in his arms, but it does nothing but make him laugh harder.

When it seems evident that Sam isn’t curbing his unadulterated amusement at his shorter counterpart’s expense, Castiel pulls back from him with confusion written all over his face. He doesn’t understand and Sam doesn’t either, but it doesn’t stop being funny. _All of this for a failed test?_

He sobers up when Castiel’s face begins to look hurt. He smiles at his boyfriend like an idiot, trying to project his newfound happiness at knowing that no, Castiel isn’t hurt, no one’s suddenly died, his god awful family has not yet found out about their son’s love for another of the same anatomy, none of these have happened. Nothing but a simple failed test. Just a failed test. 

He looks at the man in front of him, disheveled and red-rimmed eyes full of so much emotion that Sam answers his unspoken question, his confused face, his hurt expression, before he starts to get angry. “Cas…babe, I’m not laughing at you I promise. I’m just, a failed test? This is what you’re so torn up about? It’s just a test. There’s no need for tears.” And with that, he wipes away the last remains of the salt water off Castiel’s face. 

His eyes go wide, seemingly shocked. “You’re not… disappointed in me?”

 _What? That’s what he’s worried about? Seriously? Oh man. It’s been way too long of a week._ “Disappointed in you? Never. Why would you ever think that? Did you not think that I haven’t noticed you studying your ass off for that thing? I know math’s not your strong suit, I get it. I do. But don’t tell me you didn’t try your hardest. You win some, you lose some. It’s okay. I’m proud of you for all the work you put in this semester, every single late night and every single ounce of effort you put in to get through these last three months. College is difficult, hell. Stanford is difficult. Breathe, babe. Just breathe.. It’s all going to be okay.” He means it. What’s one failing grade out of all of the A’s Castiel has dished out since he started at school. He can retake the course, make a better grade he’s proud of. Sam will just pick up some extra hours at The Roadhouse, god knows Ellen needs it. This is just a small bump in the road, minuscule compared to the life they have ahead of them

That seems to be exactly what his boyfriend needed to hear, apparently, because as soon as the words leave Sam’s mouth, Castiel visibly sags, letting out a gust of air that looks as if he’s been holding it in since he charged through the front door. He smiles meekly at Sams, says as honest as ever, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. This week has just been so stressful and we’re both just so busy, busy and tired. I don’t want to be a burden, Sam. You’ve done so much for me and I just…I want to be perfect. For you. For us. And I get a little caught up some times. Please forgive me.” And isn’t that funny, the both of them constantly finding themselves unworthy of the other, completely oblivious that they are more alike than they know. 

The confession turns Sam into literal mush and he can’t think of any place he’d rather be than right here, with his mental boyfriend, in their front room, Castiel’s eyes on him like he puts the stars in the sky, when in actuality Castiel is the stars in his sky, and what is the sky without it’s stars? 

He’s still grinning when he orders, berating tone and all, “Don’t you dare apologize. You are perfect, Cas. Perfectly imperfect. I wouldn’t have you any other way. So don’t you dare apologize.” This sparks Castiel into smiling like an idiot as well, and there they stand in the doorway, a bunch of idiots. 

They close in for a simple, sweet kiss. An “I love you”, “Thank you for making me so happy”, “Where would I be without you?”, “You mean the world to me” all in one little peck. When they pull away and his boy waggles those impeccable eyebrows and says nothing before making his way to their bedroom, an open invitation, Sam knows there’s more in store. 

Their lives aren’t perfect, far from it actually. One day, though, it’ll be better. Every dream, every promise, it’ll all be a reality and Sam can’t wait to give Castiel the world. Until then, he’ll stick to what he can give – his heart. It’s not much, but his dark haired, intelligent, stubborn, passionate, strong, loving boy has it all. He can only hope it’s enough. 

He turns out the lights with an enthusiastic spring in his step that night, thanking God and every higher power he can think of _this week is finally over._


End file.
